


we kiss the dusk goodnight

by heyitsathrowaway



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings, everything is happy and fine and not sad at all!, the vaguest D/s undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:19:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8698624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitsathrowaway/pseuds/heyitsathrowaway
Summary: Peter's teeth on Juno's neck are going to drive him crazy one of these days.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just porn set at a vague future time, but it does have some oblique spoilers for Juno Steel and the Final Resting Place, so proceed with caution. 
> 
> title from, and suggested listening: BTSK by MS MR

Peter's teeth on Juno's neck are going to drive him crazy one of these days.

The man's got canines sharp enough to make a lady swoon, okay? If you're into that. Juno's definitely into that. 

They finished up a particularly grueling case last night--shitty parents, a kidnapping, and no happy ending--and Peter had tucked Juno into bed and told him, sternly, that he was going to stay there for a week.

Peter said that after most of the cases they worked together, so Juno had just rolled his eye and fallen asleep. He'd woken up to Peter's hand on his stomach and mouth at his throat, though, so he figured staying in bed for at least a few more hours would be okay. Hyperion City could keep its shit together for once. Probably. 

"Juno," Peter says, his teeth on Juno's pulse, "you seem a bit distracted." He bites Juno's neck to punctuate the point.

Juno curses under his breath, and pushes his hands up under Peter's shirt. "Sorry," he says. "Just getting a little bored, is all." With his voice the way it is, even a man less perceptive than Peter wouldn't believe him. 

Peter sits up, straddling Juno's waist. He's in a plain shirt and sweatpants, and he still looks more put together than Juno ever has in his life. Certainly more put together than Juno looks now, in his boxers and bedhead, his eye patch still thrown carelessly on the side table.

"Of course," Peter says pleasantly. "It certainly wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you're considering the precise weight of the world on your shoulders, hmm?"

"Nope. Not at all." 

Though he's not the type of man to roll his eyes, Peter looks like he dearly wants to. Instead, he puts his hand in Juno's hair and leans down to kiss him on the mouth, pressing him back into the pillows.

As a way to get his mind off of things, Juno has to admit that it's very effective. Peter bites at his lip--fuck, but it's always the teeth with him, and it gets Juno every goddamn time--and sucks on his tongue, licks at his palate, and generally destroys Juno's ability to focus on anything else. 

Peter pulls back. Juno's got one leg wrapped around his waist and a hand at the side of his neck, thumb rubbing under his ear. Peter hums, takes Juno's other hand from where it's resting on his side, and presses it back along the mattress. Juno wraps it around one of the slats of the headboard, and raises an eyebrow.

Peter beams at him. "Just so," he says, and he moves Juno's other hand back against the headboard as well. "Keep those there for me, won't you, dear?"

Juno closes his eye and nods, throat working. 

It's nice, sometimes, to just--let Peter get him out of his head. It's a little weird, too, if only because Juno never expected to trust him this much. It sits in his stomach, that trust, warm and bright and solid. 

"You're very beautiful like this, Juno," Peter is saying, drawing a hand down Juno's chest. "Letting me take care of you."

Juno turns his face into his arm and doesn't answer. 

"You know the planet won't stop turning if you stop running yourself ragged for one day." Peter presses his mouth to Juno's chest, and then his stomach, leaving a trail of bites behind him. Juno tightens his grip on the headboard and lets out a rough noise.

"You got any proof on that?" 

Peter ignores him. He puts his hand between Juno's legs and squeezes, just once. 

"Fuck," Juno says, his head hitting the pillow. He draws one of his legs up, his toes curling in the sheets. When he looks up, Peter hasn't moved his hand. He's leaning his head against Juno's leg, smiling at him. Not smirking, even, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth suggests that he'd like to. But for now he's just grinning at Juno, like he's happy to be where he is. Like he's not planning on going anywhere for a long time. 

Like he's in love. Still, after all this time. After everything Juno's done.

Maybe someday, Juno will be able to look Peter in the eyes when he watches Juno like that. For now, he tucks his face back into his arm, heat crawling up his neck. Peter squeezes him again, rubs at Juno through his boxers until he can't help but moan into his arm, arching his back.

Pressing a kiss to his knee, Peter says, "There you go, love."

The fucking pet names. Shit. Juno wants to pull on Peter's hair, claw at his back, do something. Mess him up the way he's messing up Juno. But he knows he's not going to; he knows he's going to leave his hands where Peter Nureyev asked him to. 

Juno's legs are scrabbling at the sheets, now. He tries to say something witty about letting a lady get his boxers off first, but what comes out is, " _Fuck_ , Peter--"

"Shh," Peter says. He doesn't stop touching Juno. "I've got you."

Juno groans, and Peter keeps rubbing at his dick through his boxers, which shouldn't be as hot as it is but of course it is, everything Peter does is annoyingly, frustratingly hot, and--

And Juno is just _there_ , he's just about to come, when Peter pulls his hand back. Juno bites his own arm and his hips come off the bed, but Peter pushes them back down with firm hands. 

Juno, still gasping, manages to get out, "You're a goddamn asshole, Peter."

"You wound me, Juno." Yeah, now he's fucking smirking. Juno kicks Peter in the side, and he laughs delightedly. 

"Glad to see you've still got some fight in you."

"Oh, I'll show you a fight--"

Peter puts a hand to his chest, pressing him back down into the mattress. Juno sighs. He still hasn't moved his hands. Peter is grinning, all teeth. "Oh, I'm sure you will," he says. "But later." He kisses Juno one more time, and sits back so that he can pull Juno's boxers off. 

Things get a little hazy for a while after that. Peter touches Juno everywhere, his hips, the soft skin at the inside of his arms, the backs of his thighs, getting him right to the edge and then pulling away. He can be such a goddamn tease when he wants to be. Peter talks a big game, but it's usually not like this. Usually, Peter is a conscientious and careful lover, with just a hint of teeth at the edges. But when he gets it in his head that Juno needs someone to look after him--well.

And it's not that Juno _minds_. Not really. Peter has such nice hands. Juno couldn't actually _mind_ having them roam all over him. He certainly doesn't mind when they wrap around his dick, stroking him three times before pulling away. Juno groans as Peter leans away, so that he can dig around in the pockets of his coat where he left it on the floor last night.

Juno curls and uncurls his toes in the sheets. "Do you seriously keep lube in there?" he asks the ceiling.

Peter giggles, and almost falls off the bed as he sits back up, triumphantly holding up lube and a condom. Juno, working hard to keep a straight face, raises an eyebrow at him. "Well," Peter says seriously, "it certainly does come in handy, don't you think?"

"Can't argue with that," Juno says, a little distractedly, watching Peter coat his fingers.

"I'm sure you'll find a way to do it anyway," Peter says, fondly, pressing a slick finger into Juno. "Alright?"

Juno tips his head back and grips the headboard tighter. "Great," he says. "Fine. Peachy. Just about to die of sexual frustration, you know, the usual."

Peter presses a kiss to his knee and pushes in a second finger, pausing to listen to Juno's gasp. "You were saying?"

" _Such_ an asshole." 

"Whatever you say, darling." Juno can hear Peter slip into Duke Rose's cadence. "You can be _so_ impatient. I understand, you've had a long week--" His fingers nudge at Juno's prostate, and Juno moans.

"Yeah, I get it, I need to take it easy, whatever. Any chance I can get you to fuck me before the rabbits finish taking over Mars?"

"Of course, Juno. All you had to do was ask."

Peter loses his sweatpants and shirt much faster and more elegantly than Juno could ever manage, pulling on the condom and getting his arms under Juno's legs. Juno can't watch as he lines himself up--if he looks he's going to move his hands, get them on Peter's hips or on his shoulders or in his hair. And Peter told him not to, Peter's taking care of him, Peter feels amazing inside of him, fuck--

He gives Juno a moment to adjust, and then he starts to move, slow and steady thrusts. Juno looks up when Peter gasps, just in time to see his eyes flutter shut. He wants to say something about Peter losing his cool, poke fun at him a little, but Peter leans down and kisses him before he can think of anything, messy and sharp and biting. 

This is the point when Juno always loses the ability to think--when Peter has him warm and close and so intimate that Juno feels like he'll melt with it. 

"Dammit, Peter, please let me touch you--"

Peter sits back on his knees, face flushed and hair askew, and looks down at Juno. He's beaming. It'd be annoying if it didn't make Juno's heart squeeze in his chest. 

"Whatever you like, dear," he says, and the worst thing is that his voice isn't mocking at all. He pulls Juno's hands away from the headboard, one after the other, and presses them to the bed by Juno's head, their fingers linked together. 

He rubs his nose against Juno's, kissing him under his missing eye and then on the mouth, lips soft. 

Juno wants to say _hey, that's not what I meant._ But he's getting better at not lying to Peter, at letting himself have things he shouldn't want. Like Peter Nureyev, kissing him sweetly, fucking him slowly, their hands intertwined. 

Juno comes with Peter sucking bruises onto his collarbone, squeezing at Peter's hands. He wraps his legs around Peter's hips until they stutter to a stop against him, Peter biting down at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

When Peter slumps down, Juno lets go of his hands to bring them to the sides of Peter's face.

"Jerk," he says, fondly, pulling him in for a kiss.

"I'm glad to hear such rave reviews of my performance," Peter says primly. Juno slings an arm over his eye while Peter gets up and deals with the condom, before he comes back to bed and wraps himself around Juno like a Phoboian octopus. 

"I trust you'll be taking my advice about taking some time off," he says against Juno's neck.

Juno buries his head in the pillow. "You make a compelling argument," he says, muffled.

They're cuddled close enough together that Juno feels Peter's laugh more than he hears it, a rumbling against his back. It's nice. This is nice.

Sure. Peter's right. Hyperion City will keep itself running if Juno Steel relaxes for a week. 

Peter's hand is resting against Juno's stomach, warm and steady. Juno reaches down and weaves their fingers together. "Okay," he says to the pillow. "Let's stay here awhile."


End file.
